SUPT Traditions of Flight

  • Published
  • By 2nd Lt. Daniel Brand
  • 47th Flying Training Wing Public Affairs
LAUGHLIN AIR FORCE BASE, Texas --  It was a scorching August morning at Laughlin when a T-6 Texan II trainer landed to drop off its instructor pilot. As the canopy lifted open, Capt. Brian Staniszewski, an instructor pilot in the 434th Flying Training Squadron, crawled out onto the wing and leaped down to the ground. He was about to send 2nd Lt. Jun Liang Tan, an exchange student from Singapore, to begin his finest hour of training and attempt his first solo flight.

As aircraft thundered down the nearby runways, Staniszewski yelled above the roar. "When an IP says that the student is good, he's putting his own reputation on the line," he shouted. He ducked beneath Tan's wing for a final inspection, intending to send his student skyward in nothing less than a pristine aircraft. Tan had already flown 13 flights in the T-6 and nine flights in Laughlin's state-of-the-art T-6 simulators. Although he was only one month into the program and had logged 15 hours of total flying time, Staniszewski said that he never sends any student on a solo flight unless he is 100 percent confident that they're ready.

Staniszewski climbed toward the cockpit to render his final endorsement, part of a time-honored tradition of military aviation. After a few brief, parting words, he ripped the velcro name patch from Tan's flight suit. He then removed his own patch and firmly pressed his name, his flight wings, and his very reputation to the chest of Tan. With a smile and a hand shake, Staniszewski vanished from the flight line. The T-6 aircraft known as Pogo 03 was left solely in the command of Tan.

Tan's trials weren't over with the solo, though. Upon landing, another tradition of military aviation was waiting.

"Out near the flight line we have something called the pogo pool," said Capt. Jen Moore, 47th Student Squadron flight commander. "Once the IP leaves the aircraft, its call-sign converts from 'panther' to 'pogo,' hence the name 'pogo pool.' Whenever a student completes their first solo, their classmates will attempt to toss them into the pool."

There is a catch though. If you can get away and make it to the flight room, you don't have to get tossed into the pool and all of your classmates have to buy you a case of beverages.

When asked if Tan stood a chance at such redemption, Staniszewski laughed. "No, he has really no chance. Sometimes maybe one or two students per class will get lucky, but that's really rare."

As Tan's aircraft slowly came to a park, his classmates circled like wolves.

"Students know not to run around on the flight line or anywhere where there could be a safety hazard," Staniszewski said. "Once he reaches the grass though, it's on."

Almost on cue, Tan tore across the grass towards the flight room as soon as his boot cleared the boundary. As he fled from classmate to classmate, it wasn't long before he found himself out of breath and out of options. Tan willingly removed his boots as he came to accept his fate.

After a prolonged count to three, the Singapore student found himself hurtling towards the air before plunging back down into the pool. His classmates cheered.

Amidst smiles and congratulatory pats on the back, Tan climbed out of the pool and trudged away to change his soaking clothes. His classmates then recounted their own experience on their first T-6 solos.

"When your IP takes off his patch and gives you his wings, it's like all of a sudden, you are the aircraft commander," said one. "You're confident, you're excited, and you feel more in control than in any other sortie before."

"It was a pretty good feeling knowing that someone with wings trusted me not only with his reputation, but also with a $6 million aircraft," said 2nd Lt. Kyle Schafer, a member of a previous class. He recalled the parting words of his IP just before his first solo. "He gave me his wings and said, 'just don't get slow in the final turn. Airspeed is life. Then he said, 'alright, have fun. See ya,' and he was gone."

Tan returned moments later, beaming with pride and ready to offer his own recollections.
"I thought, this is it, I'm finally going to be flying by myself. There will be no one there to save me if something goes wrong."

Another classmate said, "That was the best flight I've ever had in the T-6, both in terms of the quality of my flying and the amount of fun I had. You hear everything, you see everything. You're so hopped up on adrenaline that you don't miss anything."

Trivial as it may seem, the act of swapping patches with instructors has now been etched into the memories of thousands of students like Tan. Though a simple gesture, it has served to strengthen the bonds between classmates, students, and instructors throughout pilot training. In the case of Tan, it has even strengthened the bond between nations.