By Rich Flowers
On a trip to Alaska in 1996, Emery Tuttle of Mabank slipped into the co-pilot seat of an airplane headed for Mt. McKinley.
He learned he could still fly.
Tuttle, now 87, flew 51 combat missions in the Army Air Corps in World War II but had not been at the controls in more than 50 years.
“I told the pilot that I had flown,” Tuttle said. “He told me to get in the co-pilot seat.”
Tuttle steered the plane while the pilot kept an eye on the instrument panel.
“The instruments had changed so much in all those years, I didn’t know what to look for,” Tuttle said.
As the plane neared a remote landing strip, the pilot told Tuttle to “bring her in.” Just as he had done many times in the South Pacific, Tuttle set the craft down safely.
“That got me interested in flying again. I bought my own plane six years later.”
Tuttle first dreamed of owning his own plane when based in Louisiana in 1941. He and two other soldiers learned they could buy an aircraft for about $900. The three started pooling their money with thoughts of buying a plane, but it never happened.
A few months later, Tuttle saw a notice on the company billboard inviting anyone interested to take the pilot exams.
“It consisted of an IQ test and questions to see where you would be best fitted,” Tuttle said. “I was qualified as a pilot.”
Tuttle lost his “skunk stripe” at flight school in Muskogee, Okla. The stripe was a white piece of surgical tape from the front to the back of his helmet. After his first solo flight, the pilot got to peel off the stripe.
Tuttle said anyone who had not flown solo after 12 hours of flight time was “washed out.” He completed most of the in-flight maneuvers, but had trouble mastering the landing.
“After 11 hours and 45 minutes, the instructor got out of the plane and said, ‘Go kill yourself. Go once around the field and make one landing,’” Tuttle said.
Tuttle said he made one approach, but three landings — if you count the two bounces before his plane came to a rest.
After flight training, Tuttle was promoted to 2nd Lieutenant and assigned to Tarrant Field, where he learned learn to fly B-24s. But he never flew one of the heavy bombers in combat.
“They put me in a B-25 squadron with the idea that it would become a B-24 squadron, but they changed their minds.,” Tuttle said. “I enjoyed the B-25s. They were faster, nimbler and easier to fly.”
Tuttle was transported to Honolulu, Hawaii, where he was “checked out” on the B-25. Finally, in 1943, his squadron, began flying low level strikes in the Central Pacific. The goal was to neutralize Japanese fortresses on the small Pacific Islands.
“Our tactic was surprise, which was successful. Our casualty rate ran as high as 33 percent on some of the missions,” Tuttle said.
Tuttle said the bombers would fly as low as 10 feet off the ground. Often one plane’s bomb would strike a friendly aircraft below it. To avoid tragic consequences, a 10-second delay was placed on each bomb.
“I received the Air Medal six times and the Distinguished Flying Cross three times,” Tuttle said.
The Distinguished Flying Cross is awarded to any member of the armed forces who distinguishes himself or herself by heroism or extraordinary service in airflight.
“But don’t think I was some kind of hero. Every few flights I would get another medal, but only one promotion,” Tuttle said.
After the war, Tuttle graduated from Southern Methodist University and entered business. Today he lives in Mabank with his wife, JoAnne. He still flies in his RV-6a, an experimental craft that cruises at about 200 miles per hour.
“I don’t get up there as much anymore, about two or three times per month,” Tuttle said. “I passed my flight review about a month ago. That means I can fly for two more years.”
Today, Tuttle enjoys sharing his Christian faith and writes gospel lyrics to old jazz standards. He has written a book about his life, including the World War II years, called “And the Angels Sing.”
Tuttle will sign copies of the book from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. Saturday at the Back In Time Tea Room in Athens.
