As we all know it started with the Korean thing in 1950.  A forgotten war, so some would say, but it was pretty real for many.  As for me, I wanted to be in the first instructor class at Malden but due to prior commitments didn’t get in until the third class.  So on we went to Craig AFB for Pilot Instructor School (affectionally called, PIS), where one of the things I did was to teach my instructor how to make wheel landings in the T-6.  By the time the 6 weeks was over he was pretty good.  So it was back to Malden around the first of December 1951 and introduced to our first students.  Hmmm, what an interesting time! 

December of 1951 was a cold sucker — much freezing rain and plainly miserable.  The airplanes were literally frozen to the ramp and conditions were unflyable of course — the ready rooms, being reconditioned WW II buildings — wooden one story things - with asphalt shingles or tar paper on top and sides — heated by an oil fueled (or maybe propane) stove which would have been welcomed by Daniel Boone, but which would only heat a limited spot in an otherwise very cold space, were quite an introduction not only the students but to the instructors also.

We spent time — oh so much time hoping for a break in the weather but it only stayed that way for days.  Base Colonel put out an edict: “we will get a flight on each student before the Christmas break (morale purposes of course)”.  And so it was when one day there was a slight reprieve and with much clearing of ice off the planes, but no removal of ice off the ramp and runways, we got things moving.  I had 4 student assigned, 2 American Cadets and 2 NATO; one French and one Belgium.  Foreign students were supposed to be able to read, write and understand English.  But neither of the later two comprehended very much about what was going on.  So with very careful taxiing and preparations out to runway 13 we waddled.  We had about a 45 degree right cross wind -- with ice covered runway — brand new students — brand new instructors and pucker time was on.  Around the pattern the first two Americans went for their first flight with a landing that was “acceptable” under the circumstances.  Next was the Frenchman — canopy open, which he would never close — so we both froze and then next the Belgium.  He did close the canopy for the short flight but when it came time to land, I put the gear handle down — but the student would immediately pull it back up.  He remembered the handle must be moved but he was confused as how it should be used and for what purpose.  Nor would he understand my intercom instructions to either put the darn thing down and leave it alone or let me handle the thing.  All I got was him turning around and giving me a big grin and a thumbs up.  So it went – handle down — handle up, gear down-gear up for 2 or 3 times — on the way to landing.  I guess that landing was the one of the most challenging of my life up to that time.  Good stiff cross wind — ice covered runway — and I had my left knee braced against the landing gear handle while trying to put the thing on the ground.  Somehow it turned out OK.  The students had their first real flight in an Air Force airplane, most enjoyed it, and away they went for their Christmas break to brag about their exploits.  For the instructors the day was a frustrating one, one they probably wouldn’t forget and wondering what they had gotten themselves into.

For some this is old stuff, but as far as the situation at the time and place the following is offered:
The airplanes, re-manufactured North American AT-6’s and renamed T-6 were fantastic.  Some I’m sure were, old D and F models, I had flown previously back during WW-II and great airplanes for their time.  The ones we had were for all practical purposes, brand new planes, with refurbished interiors and state of the art (for the time) instrumentation, and were a pleasure to fly.  The T-6 was a very honest plane if flown properly, but would eat you for breakfast if you abused it — fly it properly and it would do what you wanted — an excellent plane all around.  Students who learned on that plane, in my estimation, were much better airman over all, than the planes that replaced the T-6.  I would like to say here however that the T-28 was also a pleasure to fly.  I must say when I got close to my first T-28 I noticed it had a Wright engine, an Aeroproducts prop and I think manufactured by the Chrysler or Kaiser company.  Didn’t sound too good to me, but still I liked the plane even though I had two complete engine failures at night, versus never having an engine failure with the T-6, a Pratt and Whitney engine.  The T-28 was great — the engine???.

Malden as you know is located in an ancient flood plain of the Mississippi river.  Level and with much sandy soil, which tends to blow with any appreciable wind, so actual sandstorm type conditions could be experienced at times.  Being in what was called the Boot heel of Missouri it was an area that got very hot in the summer and very cold in the winter—seasonal weather to say the least.  Thunderstorms, snow and ice and frost on the 100 or so airplanes parked overnight were constant problems.  With the T-6, you could operate with the canopy open — sweat like the devil but at least have wind in your face and on your body if you wanted.  In the T-28 at low altitude in the summer, it was beastly hot since you could not operate with the canopy open so you were wringing wet at the end of a period. 

Some events are more notable that others.  Like one dual night cross country from Malden-Paducha-Dyersberg below a wintry 5,000-ft ceiling, in and out of snow, truly dead-reckoning.  This mission should have been called off (had to stay on schedule you know—however the students told me later they got a kick out of watching the snow stream past by the passing and position lights).  But the following solo cross-country operation came off without a hitch.  I suppose the involved students took the dead-reckoning navigation system to heart.
Frost:  A frosty T-6 is not to be flown without either removing it or smoothing it to contour with the airfoil.  Well, due to schedule pressure one frosty morning one instructor (I won’t mention his name) had to fly an airplane off a red dash or some such, so he got in a rush and scooted out to the runway, got slightly airborne, the left wing dropped followed by a roll to the right and then back to the left very rapidly when the pilot decided he’d had enough, chopped the throttle and the plane pancaked into a water soaked area to the left of the runway, still gear down, and in a level attitude.  A great geyser of water and mud completely engulfed the plane and surprisingly the plane came to a stop upright and I think basically undamaged.  It was suspected by the accident investigators that he had attempted a takeoff without clearing the frost—but where was the frost after the incident?---gone, completely washed off by the bath.  Everyone should be so lucky.  Another scheme to remove the frost and get back to flight system was to utilize a fire truck to spray water onto the ready-for flight aircraft with engines running, which would thus remove the frost.  Many, including myself, didn’t like this because we feared that while removing frost, the water might run into parts of the flight control systems and freeze during the ensuing flight and create a potential flutter or restrict flight controls.  As it turned out the system worked perfectly and as far as I know, no one had any problems.  I suppose the temperature just above ground level was not conducive to freezing.

White-Yellow (maybe Red?)-Black flags:  These flags were hung from the central control tower, backed up by radio announcements.  As I remember, white was for unrestricted solo, yellow (or red) was for discretionary solo and black was the signal for all you cats to come home or stay on the ground.

Geese:  Migratory wildfowl flying thought the area, especially at night were always a problem in the fall season.  I know of two planes that were damaged by goose strikes.  And speaking of waterfowl, the extensive swamp to the northwest of the base provided a number of us with fantastic duck hunting along with hunting on the Mississippi river
Accidents:  Ground loops and cartwheels were part of the T-6 program causing no fatalities to my knowledge but more serious were two dual flights, which resulted in fatal injuries to the instructors and students.  And I believe there was one midair collision between two solo students in the T-6.  The T-28 had its share of problems but mostly due to hydraulics and engine.  I believe the T-34 had relatively few accidents.  Several PA-18’s busted bungee cords and had nose up situations.

The Union thing:  Ok, so some didn’t like the fact that we all were getting some $50 or $100 pay less than most of the other 8 bases.  Dissatisfaction got a bit out of hand and a vote to organize a union was taken for the purpose of demanding more pay—a slight majority voted to organize.  Well that didn’t go over well with management and next thing you know General Dissoway (?) was up to Malden from Headquarters in his T-33, an all hands meeting was held in the base theatre and the General who delivered a very short speech stated in so many words, “gentlemen if these students aren’t flown as scheduled there will be C-47’s here in the morning and they will be flown to bases where they will get training.  The war demands it.”  With that he stomped out through the center isle, jumped into his jet and blasted off.  Inside the theatre you could hear a pin drop—and so ended any threat of any formal organization.

Local things to do:  Malden had it’s Blondell’s beer joint and Pop Warner’s for entertainment and local color.  Bernie had it’s Hobes for beer and Joe Haw’s drug store for sore throats and splinter removal and a shot of Wild Turkey if you hung around and had a few minutes to hear some funny stories from Joe.  Dexter, a few miles further up the road had its Hob Nob emporium.  If you really wanted to get out you could go left from Dexter and end up in Poplar Bluff or turn right to Sikeston or even Cairo.  That was about it locally off base.  But on-base there was the OFFICERS CLUB, known simply as the CLUB or the “O club”.  I don’t know the buildings original use during WWII, might even have been a mess hall or club, since it was built in the traditional H shape, which was normal for that time.  It wasn’t very pretty but served the purpose; bar at one end, band stand at the other (one of the mechanics a fellow by the name of Dorsey I believe, provided music with his little band—served the purpose well)

Round one at Campbell auxiliary field:  Landing practice always provided some congestion but one day it got a little out of hand.  One instructor (name will be provided by those who know) would constantly crowd the aircraft ahead and the Flight Commander at runway control would repeatedly send him around for that reason.  Well, apparently he finally got enough of that so even tho told to go around, he didn’t and after landing taxied up to control and jumped out of the plane with the student in the front cockpit with the engine running.  Up to the Flight Commander he went with arms waving and much yelling which evolved into him delivering an uppercut, decking the Commander.  Needless to say that was a no-no.  I was in my plane near by and was called over to take over control while the Flight commander flew back to the main base in the pugilist’s plane and with his student.  By the time, this unnamed pilot got back to the base his paycheck was waiting for him and he was gone by sundown.

Anyway, these were a few things to remember about a very interesting time in a person’s life.  How could it be otherwise?  Here we had the best group of students in the world, darn good airplanes, a job that most of us loved all for around $450 a month, a bunch of highly skilled coworkers, a long weekend every other weekend, a week off between each 6 month class, a frozen turkey at Christmas from the boss and in an area of very friendly local people.  Yep, we had our problems with a few grumpy persons but that goes with the territory any place in life.

Take care and good luck

-- Bill Fredrick

I was an Aviation Cadet with 55-A Class, the best time of my life was in Malden AFB. I remember one funny thing--I was the first Cadet to be a member of the Malden Ladies Club. I was graduated with 57B Class in Reese AFB. This year we have our 50th Anniversary. I am retired from the Peruvian Air Force with the rank of Colonel.

-R.V.M. Class 55-A

"Remember the place like yesterday. Especially the cadet barracks that were like converted motel rooms. Remember the rooms housed four cadets to each and had windows that went sideways until Uncle Andy, Mr. Anderson the contractor, had the place redone and then the windows went up and down. One of our class also got a small radio station started there with a range of about five miles that we found the AF Tac Officers were listening to since we played Kenton, Brubeck and the like. That is, until one night they were having a party with Mr. Anderson and one of our guys said something disparaging about the old man!"

           -- A.D., Class 57-J, 1956

Class of 54k- "Mean" Gene Sackey was our instructor. I will never forget our first meeting and his short speech. "My name is Gene Sackey and I have about 10,000 hours and have never had an accident, any questions?" I took one look at him and said to myself this hillbilly is going to teach me to fly. Well he went on to bigger and better things. As for myself, I retired after 20 years and most memorable part of my career was flying 100 missions over North Viet Nam in the F-105 (thud).

    -- F.S. 54K

I went through Malden as an aviation cadet in class 56-B. 

I was at Malden from Oct 54 until April 55 before transferring to Bryan  Texas for single engine training.  My instructor was named "Doc" Edwards.  I certainly tried his patience as I had not even driven a car before soloing the PA-18 and the T-6.  His instructions were apparently great as I went on to survive 20 years as an Air Force pilot. - G.W. Class of 56-B

I arrived at Malden Air Base in July of 1954, Class 55R, as a Foreign Cadet from the Honduras Air Force.  My Instructor was Mr. Widner,  cigar smoker, excellent Pilot and human being.  I left for Bryan AFB in January 1955.  I have great memories of the old Base.  I flew for 30 years (military and commercial) and logged over 24,000 hours.  I am now a proud Citizen of the USA, my Country that I learned to love while I was undergoing training with the USAF. 

    -- C.G. Class 55R