San Antonio, deep in the heart of Texas, is truly a military town with installations on all sides of the city. The Air Force Bases of Lackland, Kelly, Brooks, and Randolph, the U.S. Army base of Fort Sam Houston, and two large military hospitals surround this city with its large Mexican and Spanish heritage that is centered on the San Antonio river. The friendly atmosphere that exists between the military and the civilian population in this area is undoubtedly unequaled at any location in the United States. This beautiful city is perhaps more famously known as the home of the Alamo, where that historic battle took place. Following my tour of duty in Vietnam in 1966-67, special orders directed me to Randolph AFB where I would serve five years as a T-38 instructor pilot with progressive moves into a Wing Headquarters position as Director of Operations and Training.
This was the fifth time in my Air Force career that I was to be located in the state of Texas. Randolph AFB is an historic base, having been long used as a flight training site. The layout of the facility, dating back to the 1930’s, is both unique and picturesque. Runways and tarmac surround the headquarters and housing units on three sides. The north side entry point leads to the centerpiece of the facility, the Taj Mahal, a beautiful, large structure that serves as the Wing Headquarters and contains numerous artifacts that befit its history. Concentric circles lead from the Taj Mahal to the various organizations contained within the Spanish decor buildings that serve the base requirements and numerous support facilities.
The 3510th Flying Training Wing at Randolph was one of several training bases within the Air Training Command responsible for the continuous supply of new pilots within the Air Force structure. Cessna T-37 twin jet aircraft are used for primary or introductory jet training on the west side of the base. On the east side Northrup T-38 twin jet aircraft are used for basic and final flight training prior to the students’ graduation and the awarding of their pilot wings. My initial assignment was as a Flight Commander, with the rank of Major, in the T-38 squadron working with student pilots as they proved their capability to fly the high performance jet. Each student would acquire about 110 hours of flight in the sleek supersonic T-38.
Under my control and supervision were six to seven instructor pilots that taught the twenty students within each class assigned to our flight the specific training curricula. Each instructor had three or four students that were under his direct supervision as the students progressed through the various phases of contact, instrument, formation, night, and cross country flying. I had no student assigned to me, but served as a floater giving progress check flights and sometimes working out the occasional student problem.
Occasionally, as the students neared graduation, I had the opportunity to perform a maneuver that displayed the T-38 at its high performance best. Following a training flight, with the student in the rear flying by instrumentation only while under a fully enclosing hood, a planned instrument approach was made to Kelly AFB on the opposite side of San Antonio. After orientation to a serving radio aid, a letdown was made by the student and a low approach was continued until just short of the end of the runway where a visual missed approach would begin. At that point I took control of the aircraft, had the student come out from under the hood, made a radio request to the Kelly Control Tower for a maximum performance maneuver while departing, lit the afterburners and aimed the aircraft to the sky. With the then light weight of the aircraft the sleek jet could go almost straight upward. At 10,000 feet of altitude I would make a half roll enabling the student to look straight down at the opposite end of the runway from which we had begun the maneuver. Even though the maximum performance climb was begun at a relatively slow airspeed, the result was a gain of two miles in altitude with a forward travel of less than two miles! I would accomplish this maneuver only if the student had demonstrated sound proficiency of his instrument flight capabilities.
The young instructor pilots that were under my supervision were outstanding, mostly of 2nd or 1st Lieutenant rank. Included among these was a recent graduate of the Air Force Academy, 2nd Lieutenant Halton R. Vincent. It was not uncommon for newly commissioned officers and rated pilots to receive as their first assignment flight instructor duty. Lt. Vincent was a top notch officer and pilot, befitting an Academy graduate. “Vince”, as we knew him, worked in this capacity for two years, proud of the accomplishment of seeing three classes of students receive their wings and go on to other assignments around the world.
Among the many other functions at Randolph was the Headquarters for the Air Force Personnel Center. Within this huge building, a multitude of folks fulfilled the personnel requirements of the Air Force throughout the world. This was the location that originated the Special Orders that directed the change of station for all Air Force personnel, in keeping with the needs of the time. Every officer and airman, in his personnel file, has the opportunity to indicate his career goals and preferred next assignment. If you were fortunate your next duty assignment was in line with that request but the needs of the service obviously came first. It was effectively a numbers game – when your number came up you moved to your next duty station as specified by that Special Order. Early in 1969 Lt. Vincent received orders that directed him to undergo some brief training and then to report overseas for duty in Southeast Asia. Lt. Vincent departed our flight, moved his beautiful wife and two young children back to Colorado, and headed to Vietnam.
In late April of 1969 my fellow instructors and I, who had only recently been intimately involved with Vince in flight instructor duty, received shocking news. Lt. Halton Ramsey Vincent had been shot down on his very first combat mission during an interdiction mission while performing close air support for troops in South Vietnam, near the Cambodian border. Full details were never available to us but we were informed that the crash of the aircraft resulted in the death of Lt. Vincent. His body was recovered and returned to the States with burial arrangements made for internment at the Air Force Academy, the school and site from which only a few short years ago he had graduated.
Linda, Vince’s widow, asked if there could be participation by his former contemporaries in the service to be held at the Academy chapel. Permission was quickly requested of our Squadron Commander to honor this request, which was immediately granted. On April 25, 1969, a flight of three T-38 aircraft, with six pilots on board, departed Randolph AFB, made a quick turnaround at Tinker AFB in Oklahoma, and landed at Peterson Field at Colorado Springs, south of the Air Force Academy. Arrangements were made to attend the funeral of Lt. Vincent the next day.
With the backdrop of the Rocky Mountains, the Air Force Academy, located north of Colorado Springs, is sited in a beautiful location. The Academy chapel is a majestic structure, with its heaven reaching spires and spectacular colored glass work, as impressive as any known. It was here that the six of us served as pall bearers for our fallen comrade in the chapel service. Internment was on the grounds of the Air Force Academy. Words failed me, as it did for my contemporaries, when it came time to offer our heartfelt condolences to Linda Vincent. The military funeral with full honors, the folding of the United States flag, the presentation of the flag to the widow and her children, and the internment was a sorrowful day for all. It was, however sad the occasion, a fitting place for Vince to be laid to rest.
Six somber Air Force pilots had three hours of quiet flight time as we returned to Randolph the next day and resumed our duties. The sun did, indeed, again rise in the east and the Texas sky was again a deep blue. By mid morning the fleecy, popcorn shaped fair weather cumulous clouds formed as usual, and, like snowflakes, no two were alike. As we returned to the routine of training our students, I know we all took pride in having had the acquaintance and comradeship of a fine officer and gentleman – Lieutenant Halton Ramsey Vincent.
Wings Over Cumberland 