Flight Experience Included 'Four Course Range'

Back in the 1930s, the primary radio aid for navigating in airplanes was the "Four Course Range." The way it worked is the station sent out two signals which divided the world into four quadrants. You could tell which of the quadrants you were in by Morse Code for the letters A or N which merged into a solid tone on each of the four courses. Pilots navigated by listening, there were no instruments involved.

Sometimes "fan markers" provided information on distance from the station. The system had mostly gone out of use by 1950, but in 1970 there were still a few operating in Alaska.

Aviation came into my life as a surprise. Unlike many of my fellow flyers, airplanes were not part of my fantasies as a youth. I wanted very badly to be a Civil Engineer. But, after working my way through college I was confronted with the reality that the government of the United States wanted me to be part of their military, so I went looking for the safest way to do that.

My Uncle Vinnie had been a U.S. Army engineer in World War II. His unit bridged the Rhine, thus being the first American soldiers across the river. Of course, the Germans objected, and Vinnie's stories made that career path seem less than desirable. I went to visit the U.S. Air Force recruiter hoping for a safer job, but they had plenty of engineers. The recruiter asked if I wanted to take a test about flying. Despite never having been in an airplane I did well and joined up, thinking maybe when I finished a couple years of training the Vietnam War would be over.

Like a convert to a new religion, I soon embraced aviation. Technical data fit nicely into my engineer's brain. After a rough start, aerobatics became fun and flying close formation in the pointy nosed T-38 was a joy. My grades were good enough to have a choice of some desirable airplanes, but my survival instinct kicked in and I choose to fly C-130s in Alaska. Once the pressure of training was over, I dived into aviation literature and read a lot of books including those by Ernest Gann. He wrote fascinating stuff and remains one of my favorite authors.

At the time there were no units in Alaska dedicated to search and rescue or medical evacuation. The job fell to my squadron and each day an "alert" crew was scheduled. That mostly involved hanging around the base all day, but not flying. It was almost a day off. During one of my "alert" days we were surprised by a medevac mission.

A soldier participating in maneuvers in a remote area was hurt, so off we went with some medical staff. The nearest airport was a civilian gravel strip, and it had

an instrument approach procedure. Operations filed the flight plan. We were off in minimal time, but without the usual study of things at the destination. That would happen in route.

Like a dutiful copilot I found the appropriate chart for the approach and handed it to the pilot. He looked at it and said, "What the heck is this"? Or words to that effect, then, "The weather's not good. How are we going to land?" I looked at the chart for several minutes before I realized the procedure used a "Four Course Range."

In a disgusted tone the pilot said we would have to go back. I looked at the approach some more and remembered a chapter in Gann's book "Fate is the Hunter" where he described in detail flying a range approach when he was an airline pilot in the 1930s. "I can do this," I said. I got the look reserved for cocky co-pilots and the boss said "OK, wise guy" (also paraphrased).

Fortunately, "Range" transmitters worked in the same frequency spectrum as Non-Directional Beacons, or NDBs. We could receive a station on the Automatic Direction Finder (ADF).

If NDB or ADF is not in your vocabulary, I'm not going to explain. Just read on.

After figuring out which quadrant we were in, I turned to pick up an inbound leg. We passed the station, got the required "cone of silence" and turned outbound. After the recommended time I reversed course with a procedure turn and intercepted the final approach, descending all the while on the specified profile. Coming through the bottom of the clouds, the airstrip was dead ahead. After saying "I've got it" with a slightly surprised tone, the pilot landed. The injured soldier was loaded up and we left for home. Sometimes it does pay to read books.